Word: concertizer
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...There was always uncertainty behind my defense of Dylan: Was I championing, in a figurative sense, a dead man? Since I have never heard him live in concert, it was difficult for me to determine whether he was all hype hiding behind a veneer of legend and recording technology. The question was never whether his heart was healthily thumping away, rather, very pragmatically, if I saw him in concert, was he going to suck? And therein lies the peculiarity of affection: it fears the possibility of change. For our purposes, that would result if the familiar image of good Dylan...
...concert began with a solo set by Dylan's more melodiously-voiced counterpart, Paul Simon. On the whole, Simon's live performance did not live up to his recording reputation. His style, which seems to border on world-music kitsch, was very treble emphasized and percussion heavy, assuming an almost flippant, less weighty framework. Beginning his set with many of his earlier works, especially many he originally recorded with Garfunkel, his renditions of "Mrs. Robinson" and "Bridge over Troubled Waters" were unconvincing testimonies of his solo career. But the latter-day Simon finally came out during less-instrumental tinged moments...
...mind. Somehow or other I had convinced myself that due to the how many times I have managed to miss seeing Bob Dylan, I was bound to die the same way, or from the more accurate perspective, that he would die before I would get to see him in concert...
...this was not a concert for the weak of heart. Unlike his controversial Royal Albert Hall concert of 1966 during which an audience member denounced Dylan, who was "going electric", as "Judas!", a traitor to his folk roots; this opportunity was never even given. Here was a man who didn't give a damn what you expected from his music. He can afford to do this because he is that damn good...
Raised in Burbank, Calif., and discovered at 17 by an agent who spotted her from his car after a Rolling Stones concert, Russo suffered some tough breaks: a deadbeat dad, childhood scoliosis, spiritually bankrupt if well-paid years as a top cover girl. Things are better now, thanks to her faith and family life with screenwriter husband Dan Gilroy and five-year-old daughter Rose. Though Russo has yet to carry a film on her own (her sole effort was the failed kid flick Buddy), she still takes home $5 million a picture. Next she branches out to broad comedy...